Oh, Sinners
by littledarkone
Summary: Charlotte Kincaide is sent to Camp Green Lake for murder. As she slowly discovers the Warden's real reason for digging holes, she falls in love with a person from her past she thought she'd forgotten about. Eventual ZigZagOC.
1. and I'm feelin' good

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Holes, or anything associated with it. That honor belongs to Louis Sachar. The title of the story is taken from the song "Down to the Valley" by Doc Watson.

**Notes**: Okay, so. Grammar and spelling will be a bit off in dialog. I'm following the accents used in the movie mainly Mr. Sir's Texan accent and the slang used by the campers, so any dialog misspellings are intentional. Anything other than that is my mistake. Things will be taken from both the book and the movie, like the length of shower time four minutes vs. one and a half minutes. Of course, this could be considered AU, but since it takes place about seven months before the arrival of Stanley, this very well could have happened. So go with me here, okay?

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**Chapter One: and I'm feelin' good.**

"Birds flyin' high; you know how I feel.  
Sun in the sky; you know how I feel.  
Breeze driftin' on by; you know how I feel.  
It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me.  
And I'm feelin'...good."  
-Michael Bublé "Feeling Good"

"Has the jury reached a verdict?"

"We have, Your Honor." The stout black woman blinked at the judge over her thick glasses. She held a folded piece of paper in her hand.

"Will the defendant please rise?"

I did so, shaking slightly. My heart beat fast, and I drummed my fingers on the table in front of me.

"We, the jury, find the defendant, Charlotte Rose Kincaide, guilty of second degree murder."

My heart stopped. "What?"

"The defendant _will_ remain silent," the judge snapped, glaring at me. I blinked, lowering my eyes. _Oh my God._ "Now, you have two choices here, Ms. Kincaide. You may either go to jail--"

"I'm _not_ going to jail," I interrupted, almost desperately. "I didn't even kill the guy!"

"Quiet," the judge growled, scowling at me. She ruffled a few papers in front of her and looked at me again. "It seems they have another opening at Camp Green Lake, in Texas."

My jaw dropped. "Texas?"

The judge glared at me coldly. I shut my mouth. "Although it seems to be predominately male oriented," she continued, "I'm sure they can accommodate one such as yourself. So," she cocked her head, still staring at me. "What will it be?"

"I sure as hell ain't going to jail, Your Honor," I mumbled.

"Very well, then. Twenty seven months, Camp Green Lake."

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My head rested on the window, banging against it every time the bus went over a bump. I had seen nothing but a vast expanse of nothingness for the past four hours. Nothing but sand. Sand sand sand.

I sighed, pushing a piece of frizzy brown hair behind my ear. Even though it was up in a high bun atop my head, strands were sticking to my forehead and the back of my neck. The handcuffs were giving me bruises around my wrists. I closed my eyes, tilting my head forward against the seat in front of me. I could feel myself drifting off as the bus finally began to slow down and turn.

"C'mon. We're here." I was jostled awake, hoisted to my feat and hauled down the small aisle by a fat guard in aviator sunglasses. I stepped off the stifling hot school bus, blinking in the harsh sun. My bright green eyes looked around. Sand...and boys. I was surrounded by sand and boys.

Oh, and holes. Lots and lots of holes.

_Great. Just great._

"Yer name Charlotte?"

I started, whipping around and coming face to face with a stereotypical Texan- tight jeans, flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, gun holster and a fully-loaded gun, complete with boots and topped off with a black cowboy hat. He even had a tattoo of a rattlesnake on his lower right forearm.

_Boy, someone sure got lost on the way to the O.K. Corral,_ I thought, rocking back on my heels. "Yeah. That's me." I paused. "I go by Charlie, though."

The man frowned at me, and spat onto the dusty ground. "C'mon, follow me," he groused. He turned and stomped away, little clouds of dust rising under his boots. I sighed a little, slung my backpack over my shoulder, picked up my suitcase and followed.

The heat was almost unbearable. I was relieved, then, when I was led into a small, air conditioned cabin. A desk sat at the head of the room, and on it sat the man, some papers, a can of Sprite, and a carton of ten packs of cigarettes. Somewhere between the period of time it took me to follow this man into the building, he had lit a cigarette and was smoking it lazily. I chewed my lip, my fingers itching for a smoke.

"Charlie, was it?" I nodded, eyeing the carton of cigarettes. "Drop yer bag by the door. I'll have someone pick it up for ya, 'n take it to your tent." He paused, and then spoke. "My name is Mr. Sir. You will always address me as such. 'Nderstand?"

I blinked at him. _Mr. Sir? What kind of a name is_ that "Yes, Mr. Sir," I muttered. I blew some of my hair out of my face and crossed my arms.

"This ain't a Girl Scout camp," he said, pointing his cigarette at me.

"I can see that, Mr. Sir." Mr. Sir scowled at me, then straightened and went to the door, leaning out.

"HEY YOO!" he suddenly hollered, pointing out the door to someone who must have been standing right outside. I jumped nearly a foot in the air, clutching my heart.

"Jesus," I mumbled, turning my head to look at who Mr. Sir had yelled at. A pause.

"Who, me?" Another man's voice.

"Yeah, you. Zigzag. Git over here." Mr. Sir barked, waving someone inside. This someone- Zigzag, apparently- was nearly six-foot-two with sandy blonde hair sticking out in every direction, and wild, bright blue eyes. He towered nearly four inches over Mr. Sir, but I could tell Zigzag was visibly apprehensive of him.

"Take Miss Kincaide's bag to D-Tent, will ya?" Mr. Sir took another drag of his cigarette as Zigzag, after giving me a wary once-over with his eyes, effortlessly picked up my suitcase and left. I stared after him as Mr. Sir put his cigarette out, took a drink from his can of soda, and stood, motioning for me to do the same. I straightened and followed him back outside.

"Now, here at Camp Green Lake, we run things a bit diff'rently than the regular joo-vee-nile camp," he said in his Texan drawl, leading me across the sandy courtyard of the camp.

"What do you mean?" I began to ask, but he waved me off.

"I'm gettin' there. Now, every day yer to dig a hole- five feet deep 'n five feet wide. Use yer shovel to measure. C'mon." We reached another cabin, one that wasn't much different than Mr. Sir's office. A desk sat at the head of the room, and behind the desk sat another boy, looking rather bored. Of course, as soon as Mr. Sir entered the room, the boy straightened up an greeted Mr. Sir with a forced smile. Mr. Sir just scowled.

Shelves upon shelves lined the walls of the tiny room, packed with hideous orange jumpsuits, boots of all sizes, and what seemed like hundreds of socks, gloves and hats. The hats were the same color as the jumpsuits- a screaming orange. They made my eyes hurt.

Mr. Sir handed me a pair of boots of two different sizes, three pairs of rather yellow socks, a hat, an empty plastic jug tied to a piece of cloth, and two orange jumpsuits. He explained the laundry system in a bored voice "We wash yer clothes e'ry three days. Wear one set to dig 'n one set to relax in. After three days, yer work clothes are washed 'n yer relaxation clothes become yer work clothes. Got that?", and led me once again out into the sun.

"See any fences, Kincaide?"

I looked at him. "Pardon?"

"Fences, I said. D'you see any?"

I shook my head.

"Watchtowers? Guard dogs? Poh-leece men?"

I shook my head again.

"You wanna run away?"

I frowned. "Sir?"

He motioned to the wide expanse of nothingness lying beyond the camp. Nothing but sand and holes. "Go ahead, run. I ain't a-stoppin' ya."

_Is this some kind of a joke?_

"Ain't no one runs away from Camp Green Lake. Know why?" I shook my head. Mr. Sir grinned, showing yellowed teeth. "'Cuz we got the only water for hundreds o' miles. You wanna run? You'll be dead in three days. Buzzard food."

I nodded. "Fantastic."

Mr. Sir chuckled. "Buzzards are all fine 'n dandy. It's the yella-spotted lizards you wanna watch out for."

"The what?"

Mr. Sir just chucked again. "All yoos gotta do is stay far away from 'em. You see one, ya run as fast as ya can in th' opposite direction. Don't be lookin' back, or you _will_ die."

My breath hitched, and my eyes traveled down to his gun. "Is that what that is for?" I asked, motioning to it.

He smirked, tipping his hat at me. "Yer sharp, Kincaide."

I shrugged. "A gun's not that hard to notice, Mr. Sir."

Mr. Sir nodded distractedly, looking somewhere over my shoulder. "Hey, Pendanski! Come meet your new camper!"

I turned around, bewildered, and saw yet another man, looking nearly the opposite of Mr. Sir, jogging towards us. He was about my height five-feet-five inches, wearing a button-up shirt, shorts that went down to his knees, and sneakers with the socks pulled up, nearly to the hem of his shorts. He stopped before Mr. Sir, a bit out of breath.

"You must be Charlotte Kincaide!" he exclaimed. "Welcome to Camp Green Lake. I'm Dr. Pendanski, your counselor. You'll be staying in D-tent." He started off towards a cluster of tents, waving for me to follow.

"What's the D stand for?" I asked, eyeing this man warily.

"I'm glad you asked, Ms. Kincaide."

"Charlie," I corrected automatically.

"Charlie." Pendanski repeated, nodding slightly. "The D stands for diligence. Now, there's the mess hall, the rec room, and the showers," he said, pointing to each one. "There's only two temperatures- cold, and colder, and the showers are only four minutes long, so I suggest you do whatever girls do rather quickly." He eyed me pointedly. "Wakeup is promptly at 4:30, and we head out at five."

"In the morning?"

Pendanski stared at me. "Of course. Now, over there," he pointed to a cabin between two large oak trees, "is the Warden's cabin. There's only one real rule at Camp Green Lake: do _not_ upset the Warden."

I opened my mouth to ask who the Warden was, but was cut off.

"Hey, Mom! Who's the chick?"

Dr. Pendanski stopped and turned around. Three boys were making their way over towards us: one was black, with glasses so dirty I was amazed he could see at all, one was white, with his hat on backwards and a toothpick hanging out of the corner of his mouth, and one was Hispanic, carrying a shovel over one shoulder.

"Rex. Alan. José. Meet your new tent-mate, Charlie."

"My name, for the billionth damn time, ain't Rex. It's X-Ray." X-Ray eyed me for a moment, and then stepped forward and extended his hand. I shook it. "I'm X-Ray. That's Squid, and that's Magnet." X-Ray's hand was impossibly callused. It felt like I was shaking hands with a brillo pad. He smiled, showing white teeth. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? I ain't seen a girl for months."

I nodded. Squid chuckled, the toothpick bobbing in his mouth. "She don't talk much, does she?"

"I'm sure she talks plenty. She just don't got anything to say yet, right _chica_?" Magnet asked, smiling at me. I shrugged. The three boys laughed.

"Okay, now," Pendanski interrupted. "Rex, it's your job to make sure Charlie feels welcome around Camp Green Lake. Can I count on you to do that?"

"Sure thing, Mom. C'mon, girl," X-Ray said, motioning to the tent with his head. _What am I, a dog?_ "Let's go inside 'n meet everyone else. See ya, Mom." With a last, almost helpless look to Pendanski, I followed the three boys into the tent.

The tent, if possible, was even hotter than it was outside, despite being out of the sun. Seven cots, two of which were occupied by boys looking to be around my age, were spaced around the tent. Rex, Alan and José- or X-Ray, Squid and Magnet, I suppose- went to their respective cots and flopped down. The other two boys didn't seem to notice me just yet, so I stood there. I recognized one of them as Zigzag, the one who took my bag to D-Tent. I caught his eye and offered a small smile, but he merely turned his head to stare at the floor.

"Don't mind him," X-Ray said. "He hasn't said much since he got here about two months ago. He's crazy."

"Yeah, he has... what was it called?" Squid was smiling. "Oh yeah, acute paranoia. He hears voices. Says it was the voices that made him steal the gun." I frowned. Zigzag didn't even seem to hear him.

_Why does Zigzag look so familiar?_

"Your cot's right there," Squid said, pointing to the cot across from his. I could see my suitcase poking out from under it. "Right next to mine." He smiled devilishly. I felt my stomach drop a little.

"Thanks," I said quietly, slipping my backpack off my shoulder and dropping down onto the musty sheets. I unzipped my bag and began unpacking my toothbrush, toothpaste, a tattered notebook, and a box of tampons into the crate beside my cot, leaving my clothes in my suitcase.

"Charlie, was it?" I looked up as X-Ray spoke.

"Yeah," I croaked, my throat dry.

He laughed. "Thirsty, Charlie?" I nodded.

"Get used to it," Zigzag said suddenly, looking straight into my eyes. "You're gonna be thirsty for an awfully long time."


	2. blisters and blood

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Holes, or anything associated with it. That honor belongs to Louis Sachar. The title of the story is taken from the song "Down to the Valley" by Doc Watson.

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**Chapter 2: blisters and blood.**

"Blisters and blood and the sun makes you blind.  
You don't let it eat ya; it can't help but be kind,  
'cause you know what's important with your back to the world.  
You can break metal chains and your friends don't let you fall."  
- Fiction Plane, "If Only, If Only"

_Dear Journal,_

_I've finally settled into Camp Green Lake. It's a whole lot of nothing-- holes, sand, boys, and more holes. Oh, and sand too. Did I mention sand and holes? And boys? I think I'm the only girl for a hundred miles._

_Everyone seems to be friendly- so far, anyway. My counselor, Dr. Pen-dance-key, made me feel kind of welcome. One of my tent mates, Rex or X-Ray, as he wants to be called is my "mentor." They all seem to have their own nicknames. Maybe I'll get one soon. I have a feeling I won't be really accepted until I get one. Not that I'll be accepted anyway. I'll bet everyone just wants to get in my pants. I hate boys._

_One of the boys, Zigzag, I think I've seen before, but I can't figure out where. Maybe I went to school with I'm at some point? Of course, the US is kinda big, so it's doubtful we've run into each other. Oh well, we'll see._

_Well, dinner's soon, so I'd better be off. Until tomorrow._

_-CK_

"What're you writing?"

I looked up to see Zigzag standing next to my bed, staring down at me. "Oh, just...my journal." I closed the worn notebook and held it up. "I know it's kinda third grade, but I've always had one. Ever since...well, third grade actually." I gave a small laugh, but Zigzag just stared. I coughed.

"Well then. I think dinner's starting. Are you going?" Zigzag blinked, and nodded. "Great. Well um..." I trailed off. "I guess I'll go to dinner now." I put my journal under my pillow and stood, realizing after a moment that I was face-to-neck with Zigzag. I blushed, and stepped around him. He barely even moved "Um...bye." I was halfway out of the tent when Zigzag spoke.

"Did you go to Twin Oaks Middle School?"

I froze, and turned around. "In Charleston?" Zigzag nodded. "Yeah. How did you know that?" Zigzag just shrugged. I gave a little sigh. "I wish you'd talk more. Why don't you talk?"

Zigzag seemed to ponder the answer for a moment. "I...don't know. I just don't have anything to say, I guess. I talk when I need to." I smiled a little.

"You should talk more. You have a lovely voice." Thinking about what I said, I blushed. _A lovely voice? Who is he, Michael Bublé?_ "I-I mean...oh, whatever. I'm going to dinner. Bye." I turned and hurried out of the tent; I could feel Zigzag's eyes on me until I was out of sight and in the mess hall.

_What is with that kid?_ I thought as I got in line for food. It smelled horrible, looked worse, and I'll bet tasted like shit. The best part, I'm sure, were the two pieces of bread they gave us, and the cup of water. Even the water had a slight yellowish tinge to it, but I would have drunk it even if it were purple.

"Charlie!" I heard my name being called and looked up to see X-Ray waving me over. Relieved, I hurried over to their table, seating myself between Squid and Magnet, across from two boys I had yet to meet. One was a large black boy, still dusty and sweaty, no doubt from digging all day, and the other was a bit taller than I was, with curly, jet black hair and bright blue eyes. He smiled at me and I hesitantly smiled back.

"I'm Flash," he introduced, holding out his hand. I shook it, trying to keep myself from looking into his eyes.

"I'm Armpit," the other boy said. I was grateful he didn't hold his hand out, because I don't think I would have taken it. They were grimy and I could see dirt under his fingernails and practically embedded into his skin. A few seconds later Zigzag sat down in between Flash and X-Ray, who was seated at the head of the table. He gave me a look, but quickly began to eat his food. I tentatively began to poke at mine, which wasn't actually as bad as I originally thought. Sure, it all tasted the same, but I had expected worse.

"So, Charlie. What're you in for? Stealing underwear from a Victoria's Secret?" asked Squid, nudging me with his shoulder. I chuckled and subconsciously moved a bit farther away from him.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I said, dipping my bread into my red-and-somewhat-meaty mash of something.

"Oh, c'mon _chica_, try us," Magnet said.

The others nodded eagerly. "You had to have done something big to end up in an all boy's camp," said Flash. "Come on, we've heard it all. Bank robbery?" I shook my head. "Hijacking a car?" Again, I shook my head. "Cheating on the SATs?" I laughed.

"No, but I wish that was it."

"You didn't break into the government's files, did you?" asked Armpit. I gave him a look.

"What makes you think I did that?" He shrugged. I laughed.

"Just tell us," said Squid. I sighed.

"Murder," I said quietly. The table fell silent.

"I don't believe you," I heard Zigzag whisper. I looked at him.

"It's true. And it sucks too, because," I gave a little smile. "I didn't even kill the guy I was convicted for."

"So you were framed?"

I nodded.

"So, you're innocent?" Squid asked. "You didn't kill anyone?"

"Oh, no. I killed someone," I said quickly, my eyes becoming bright. "Just not the guy I was nailed for. I killed the guy who framed me."

A pause. It seemed as though the whole room had gone quiet. I had a feeling murderers weren't sent to Camp Green Lake very often.

"Who'd you kill?" X-Ray asked quietly.

I put my fork on my tray and started to stand. I had lost my appetite. "My ex-boyfriend," I said, walking away.

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Four thirty came much too soon for my liking. Before I knew it, I was being forced awake by a disgruntled Squid.

"Up 'n at 'em, Charlie," he mumbled, shaking my shoulder. I yawned and sat up, pushing my hair out of my eyes. It was nearly pitch-black outside. Around me, the rest of D-Tent was slowly waking up, pulling on their jumpsuits and boots.

I gave another yawn and dropped off my bed, crouching down to my crate, where I pulled out my jumpsuit, toothbrush and toothpaste. I quickly changed, merely pulling the jumpsuit over the shorts and tank top that I had slept in. I picked up my toothbrush, toothpaste and canteen, and headed outside to the water spigot.

"Sleep well?" I heard X-Ray ask. I shrugged and I stood next to him. He had his toothbrush hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

"I guess." I ran my toothbrush under the running water and squirted some toothpaste on it, quickly brushing my teeth. I could barely keep my eyes open. "Four thirty is awfully early. I wish I could've slept longer."

"Don't we all?" X replied, almost bitterly. He spat the toothpaste on the ground and filled his canteen, offering to fill mine as well. We both finished at the same time, and I followed him back to the tent, putting my stuff in my crate and grabbing my hat. I followed X-Ray to a small shed labeled "Library", where Mr. Sir was standing with Pendanski. The shed's doors were open and I could see racks of shovels inside.

"Open them peepers, boys," Mr. Sir barked, shaking an A-Tenter's shoulders rather vigorously. Dr. Pendanski handed me a shovel, and smiled.

"Ready for your first hole, Charlotte?" I was too tired to correct him.

"Not really," I said. "I'd rather go back to sleep."

"Well, you can't." Pendanski said. "You screwed up your life, and now you have to pay for it. Now go get some breakfast and follow your tent to your dig site."

I sighed and turned from the shed, heading over to a truck where the rest of the camp was getting their breakfast- three rather hard pancakes and a small package of fat-free syrup that had expired a month ago. I gave my syrup to Magnet and gnawed a piece of my pancake off, chewing with slight difficulty.

_Welcome to Hell,_ I thought. _Population: me._

It was a long walk out to the dig site. I was already exhausted when I got there, and I hadn't even begun yet. I wasn't exactly the skinniest girl alive- by no means was I fat, but I sure wasn't thin, either. Everyone in my family was curvy. No matter what I did, I never lost the weight. On the plus side, I hadn't gained a pound since I was fourteen. My mom always said I'd grow into my curves, and now that I was nearly seventeen, I was starting to learn that she was right.

Dr. Pendanski showed me where I would be digging, right between Squid and Zigzag's spot. "Now, if you find anything that you think the Warden would like to see, show either me or Mr. Sir when we come around with the water truck. If the Warden likes it, you'll get the day off."

"Am I supposed to be looking for something in particular?"

"Of course not," Pendanski laughed. "You're digging to make yourself a better person. Now, you'd better get started or you'll be here until dinner."

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My father had been in the army as I was growing up. I had gone to nearly five different schools by the time I was in 8th grade. I was born in New York, and lived there until I was two. Then we moved to Florida, then California, then Hawaii (which really isn't all it's cracked up to be), then South Carolina, and then back to New York, never staying in one place for more than three years.

It was in New York that I was arrested for the murder of Andy Levokowitz.

Growing up as a military brat was hard, always moving around. It didn't help that, back in middle school, I had braces, humongous glasses (I wore contacts now, of course), and spoke with a mixed New-York-and-Southern accent, so I was ripe for ridicule. I hid in my books, locking myself in my room as soon as I got home from school and reading for hours at a time.

I never cried, though, no matter how horrible the teasing got. I trained myself at an early age to never let anyone get to me, and when I moved to South Carolina, it paid off.

By the time I had moved back to my hometown of New York City, my parents had divorced and my mom had remarried to a guy named Bill. I had lost the glasses, lost the braces, and somewhat grew into my body. I got a boyfriend, and finally got some friends.

The only problem was, they weren't exactly the best of people. Every weekend, I was at my boyfriend's house, smoking and getting drunk. We stole beer from convenience stores, printed fake IDs to get into clubs, and generally make a wreck of our lives.

The second I turned sixteen, I moved out of my mom's to live with my boyfriend, Jimmy. It was then things started getting difficult.

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The dirt was impossibly tough, like I was trying to dig a hole in a bar of steel. I looked around. Everyone else had already dug a good few inches out of their hole, and I couldn't even make a dent. I sighed.

I balanced the tip of my shovel in the dirt, and stood on it. With a breath of relief, my shovel sank into the earth. I pried the dirt off and dumped it away. _Finally._

The hours passed. Slowly but surely, I made progress. By the time the water truck came for the first time, around eight thirty, I had dug a good foot-and-a-half down and about two feet across. Of course, I was nowhere near where everyone else was, but I was proud of my meager development.

"Enjoying your first hole?" Pendanski asked as I handed him my empty canteen.

"Not really," I answered. I had stripped off the top of my jumpsuit and tied the sleeves around my waist, exposing my neck, shoulders, and arms to the merciless sun. I already had a slight pinkish tinge to my skin, and my body was drenched in sweat.

"Got blisters yet?"

"Oh, yeah. Plenty." I blinked. "Can I have my canteen back?"

"Certainly," Pendanski handed me back my water-filled canteen with a forced smile and waved me off. "Back to work, Charlotte. You're wasting daylight."

I sighed, tossing my water bottle on the ground beside my hole and picking up my shovel.

Around noon, Mr. Sir returned with food. Lunch was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bag of stale potato chips, an apple and graham crackers (three each). I ate slowly, sitting on the edge of my hole, my feet dangling about a not far from the bottom. I had gained another foot or so in every direction of the hole. X-Ray was already almost done, as was Zigzag.

I stood as I finished my lunch. My jumpsuit was stained with blood where I had wiped my hands on them. I had blisters on every finger, and on the part of my hand between my forefinger and thumb. It hurt to move them, let alone hold a shovel. My shoulders and arms resembled a freshly cooked lobster, and I'm sure my face looked like a ripe tomato. I slowly began digging aagin. I couldn't wait for my shower.

I cursed aloud the side of my hole suddenly crumbled. I paused for a moment. I would have to dig deeper before I could widen the hole more, or else the whole thing would cave in.

I looked up. X-Ray was standing next to his hole, shovel in hand. He turned to his hole, spat in it, and left. I sighed.

My shovel plunged into the earth again, and I pried more dirt out. _I'm almost done,_ I reminded myself. _Just a couple more feet, and then I'm done_. My hands felt like they were on fire, and I had long ago lost feeling in my arms and face. I could tell my Irish heritage wouldn't be very forgiving in the sunburn aspect.

One by one, the rest of D-Tent finished. One by one, they climbed out of their hole; one by one, they spat; one by one they left back for camp. Soon, I was the only one left.

I took a drink from my canteen and measured my hole. It wasn't quite perfect; precisely five feet on one end and maybe about four and three quarter's feet on the other. I shucked some more dirt out, rounded off the edges, and leaned against the side. Exactly five feet from top to bottom, and five feet in every direction. I was finished.

With some difficulty, I heaved myself out of my hole and stood shakily to my feet. My hair had chunks of sand in it, dirt was practically embedded under my nails, and I could barely lift my shovel. With my last ounce of strength, I gathered the last bit of saliva and spat.

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	3. make your move

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Holes, or anything associated with it. That honor belongs to Louis Sachar. The title of the story is taken from the song "Down to the Valley" by Doc Watson.

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**Chapter 3: make your move.**

"When you make your move, I won't hesitate,  
if you take too long, you could be too late,  
this time I'm playing to win.

If you want me, come and say it,  
don't wait around for another chance,  
make your mind up, make your play,  
you should be playing to win this time."

-John Farnham "Playing to Win"

I trudged back to camp, dragging my shovel behind me. I was the last camper to finish, and I was completely exhausted. Everyone else was lounging around the camp, either finishing up their showers, hanging out in the rec room, or sleeping in their tents. I tossed my shovel by the "Library" shed, minding my bleeding hands, and made my way back to D-Tent.

"Well, well, look who finally finished their first hole," Squid said smugly as soon as I entered the tent. He was lounging on his cot, playing cards with X-Ray. His complementary toothpick hung out of the corner of his mouth. "Man, I thought you'd never finish." I shrugged. Squid squinted at me. "Girl, do you ever talk? You're almost as bad as Zig."

I smiled. "My throat hurts," I said. "I don't wanna talk."

"Well, make your throat un-hurt," X-Ray said, putting down his hand of cards triumphantly. He had beaten Squid in whatever it was they had been playing. He turned to me. "You till haven't explained the full reason why you're here."

"Why should I tell you that?" I toed off my boots and sat down on my cot.

"_Murder_?" X-Ray raised his eyebrows. "What's that all about? No one gets sent to Camp Green Lake for murder."

"Oh, that." I laughed. "You don't need to know that. As long as you don't piss me off, you're good. That's all you need to know." I flopped face down in my pillow, sighing.

"Man, _chica_, you really got toasted," I heard Magnet say as he came in the tent, Zigzag following behind him.

"Curse of the Irish," I replied, my voice muffled. I lifted my head. "You wouldn't happen to have an aloe lotion, would you?"

"Mr. Sir might have some in his office, but I ain't about to go ask him," Magnet replied. I rolled my eyes.

"Gee, thanks. You're such a help." I heaved myself off my bed with a groan, not bothering to put my shoes back on. I winced as I walked across the courtyard, doing my best to ignore the catcalls from the other campers.

"Ooh, look at that babe!"

"Take it off, baby, take it off!"

"Why don't you come on over here and give me some of that, eh?"

I scowled at them. "I'd rather kiss a yellow-spotted lizard then come within ten feet of you," I called back to them. I heard a collective 'ooooohhh' as I entered Mr. Sir's office and closed the door with perhaps a bit more force than was necessary.

"Nasty, ain't they?" Mr. Sir grumbled. I sighed.

"More so than I thought." I paused. "Do you have any aloe lotion?"

He frowned at me. "Say what?"

"Aloe lotion. For, you know, sunburns?" I turned a little so he could see my back. "And maybe some gauze pads for my hands?"

"Oh, yeah. Lemme see 'bout that. Gimme a sec." He sat down at his desk and began opening drawers. He took out an ancient-looking first aid kit and opened it, pulling out a pinkish bottle and a plastic bag full of cloth and band-aids. "Here." He slid it towards me. The label on the pink bottle was yellow and peeling, and it was crusty around the cap. I wrinkled my nose.

"How long have you had that?"

"If ya don't like it, ya don't gotta take it," he said, looking pointedly at me.

I groaned. "Fine. Thanks Mr. Sir." I took the bottle with trepidation and stuck the bag of band-aids in my jumpsuit pocket and went back outside, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone until I reached the tent. I closed the flap behind me, glad to be out of the sun.

"What is that?"

"I think it's aloe lotion," I replied, sitting down on my cot. I looked at Squid, who was sitting on his cot with Zigzag beside him. It looked like they were playing Go Fish. X-Ray was lying down on his cot, reading a sports magazine from 1993. Magnet had disappeared.

"Looks kinda fugly to me." Squid made a face.

"That makes two of us," I muttered. "I'm not sure if I wanna put this on me, or wait until I get my package from my aunt."

"Aunt?" Zig looked at me.

"Yeah. I got an aunt on my dad's side that drives a truck for Fed-Ex in South Dakota. I sent her a letter asking for stuff."

X-Ray smirked, looking at us over the top of the magazine. "Like what?"

"Well, aloe lotion for one. Some more socks. Some cigarettes. Edible food, perhaps."

X-Ray frowned. "You smoke?" I shrugged. "Just be sure they don't search the box," he replied, coming to sit beside Squid and across from me. I took the plastic bag out of my pocket and opened it, taking a roll of gauze, some cloth, a half-used tube of Neosporin and some rubbing alcohol.

"God, my hands hurt like hell." I hissed and bit my lip as I dabbed the alcohol on my hands and spread the Neosporin on them.

"They always do after day number one." Squid smirked. "First hole's the hardest."

"That's what I've heard," I mumbled as I struggled to wrap the gauze around my hands.

"Here, gimme that." Zigzag held out his hands. I squinted a little, confused. "Your hands. Lemme see them." I held them out and he took them in his own, wrapping the gauze around perfectly and tying it securely, doing the same with the other. I smiled.

"Thanks, Zigzag. You rock." He shrugged. X and Squid exchanged a look. Somewhere off in the distance, the dinner bell rang. As if on cue, all three boys stood as one and went to leave. I stayed on my bed, trying to get my hands to function properly again. X-Ray looked back at me.

"You comin', Red?"

I looked up slowly. "Pardon?"

"C'mon, Red. Dinner." Squid motioned to the dinner hall with his head. He and X-Ray left. Only Zigzag stayed behind. I cocked my head at him.

"Red? What kind of a name is that?"

Zig shrugged. "It's better than Armpit."

I nodded. "True." I stood up and walked towards him. "What's your name?"

He looked a little puzzled. "Zigzag."

"No, I mean, you're real name."

"Oh. Ricky. It's Ricky."

I grinned. "Ricky. I like it. I had a dog named Ricky once."

Zig cracked a smile. "Are you comparing me to your dog?"

"Not at all. Well, sort of." I looked at him. "I mean, he was a golden retriever; you have blonde hair. He was kinda big; you're really...tall." I smiled. "He was lovable. You're lovable too."

"Oh. That's good."

I laughed. "Come on, let's go to dinner."

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Time passes awfully slowly at Camp Green Lake.

I had only been there for two weeks, but it felt like two years. Two weeks. That's fourteen holes. It felt like fourteen thousand. My hands had built up calluses, and I had lost about seven pounds since I arrived. The name I had received, Red, stuck with me. Charlie was long gone.

In a way, Camp Green Lake was like a utopia. A hot, dusty utopia, sure, but still a utopia. I no longer had to hold up a front of being the 'drug dealer's girlfriend', trying to scrounge enough money for food and rent. I got free housing and food even if the housing was in the middle of nowhere in 150 degree weather and the food sucked, and even though I had to dig a hole each day, I was building up muscle and getting fit. And I was tan, something you couldn't get very often in New York. And I had made friends.

Everyone at camp knew me as 'the chick that got nailed for murder'. So, of course, not a day went by in which my tent didn't pester me about the details.

"You have to tell us eventually," X-Ray said for the hundredth time one Tuesday afternoon. Me and Zig were playing X-Ray and Squid in pool, and currently we were winning.

"No I don't," I said, sinking the nine ball in the left corner pocket. I smiled. Squid kicked the wall in frustration.

"Damn girl, where'd you get so good at pool?"

"Hey, Squid, man, don't change the subject," X said as I took aim and finished the game, sinking the eight ball. Squid groaned again.

"She's like, the best pool player in the camp. It's not fair."

"But I am the slowest digger," I pointed out, straightening back up and placing my stick on the table. "So it evens out." Even though I had been here for two weeks, my hole still took me nearly seven hours to complete.

"Back to what I was saying," X said impatiently. "Why don't you just tell us already? You're gonna crack anyway."

I laughed. "I don't crack easily, Rex. You can't squeeze blood from a stone, so you might as well give up."

"But...rocks ain't alive," Squid muttered.

"Shut up, Squid," X and I said in unison. Zigzag chuckled, resting his arm on my shoulder.

"It's called a metaphor, stupid," Zig said. "Means she's a stubborn lil' bitch, so just give up."

"Hey!" I laughed, smacking him on his arm. Zig grinned at me.

Zigzag had opened up a lot in the two weeks I had been at Camp Green Lake, and he was easily my best friend. Now, hardly anyone could get him to _stop_ talking. Maybe it was because, before I came, no one would talk to him because he seemed so...odd. But I had been around a lot of weird people in my day, so I knew how to handle him. There were still the occasional times when he would stare at me, as if trying to remember something. I shrugged it off as one of his weird episodes, certain that if I had known him in the past, I would surely have remembered him.

"Hey guys, how's it hanging?" Flash strolled up to us, jus jumpsuit tied around his waist and his hands in his pockets. His black hair fell over one eye and he smiled at me. I felt my heart melt.

Okay, I'll admit it. I had a bit of a crush on the guy. But how could you not? He was gorgeous! And half the time, he went around the camp shirtless, and boy howdy, he had a nice body. Not to mention, he had a fascination for fire, and everyone loves a pyromaniac.

"Hey, Flash. Me and Zig just beat these poor suckers in pool." I turned to X and Squid and smiled. "And I believe that both you boys owe us two shower tokens each."

"Oh, come on, Red," Squid complained, smacking his pool stick against the side of the table. "It's not fair! No one can beat you in pool."

"That's not my problem. It's yours for betting against me. Now hand 'em over." Zigzag and I held out our hands expectantly, and, grumbling, Squid and X gave us their shower tokens. We smiled at each other.

"Nice playing, partner," Zigzag said, patting me on the back. I shrugged, grinning.

"What can I say? I'm a natural."

"I'll bet I can beat you," Flash challenged. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. And if I win..." he smiled cockily. "You have to tell us why you're here."

I swallowed. "And...and if I win?"

"If you win..." He bit his lip, thinking. Then he smiled wickedly. "If you win, you have to choose one of us to kiss: me, Zigzag, X or Squid. And we _have_ to kiss you."

"You don't have to convince us twice," X-Ray said, looking at me pointedly. I rolled my eyes at him.

"You're gonna make me choose?"

"Who said you have to choose?" Flash replied. "I'm gonna win."

"I doubt that," I said smugly, chalking the end of my stick intimidatingly. Flash just smiled.

"You can break," he said, picking up a stick and swaggering to the wall to lean against it. I shrugged.

"Very well." I lined the balls up with the rack and took aim. The cue ball shot out and struck the tip of the pyramid perfectly. The seven ball shot into the corner pocket and I grinned. "Solids. My lucky ones."

"Dandy." Flash didn't seem deterred. "Come on, there's only half an hour until dinner. We haven't got all day."

"Patience," I scolded, lining up the stick with the cue. I missed the two ball by a centimeter. "Dammit," I mumbled. "Go."

He did, hitting both the nine and the eleven ball into the pocket at once. I whistled. _Boy's good. I might have to work harder than I thought. _He missed the fifteen though, and it was my turn. Thankfully, I sunk three balls this time, and I was back in the lead.

"Gonna have to work harder than that," I chided. He just grinned.

"It ain't over till the scorpion sings, girl. Go again." I did, but missed. He chuckled, and sank another two balls. We were even. He smiled.

"Shut up," I mumbled. He just shrugged.

"I didn't say nothing."

"Whatever."

He missed his next ball and I struck the one ball with a bit more force than necessary. It bounced off the corner and narrowly missed the left side pocket. I groaned. "You're distracting me, Flash," I muttered, slouching against the wall. "I'm going to lose."

"Not my fault," he muttered, taking aim but missing. I smiled.

This went on for a while, each of us missing, sometimes randomly getting a ball in. I didn't know why I was so distracted. Maybe it was the fact that I was playing pool with freaking _Flash_, easily the cutest guy in camp. Ah, well.

Finally, it was down to the eight ball. Whoever sank this would win. I would either spill my story, or kiss someone. I definitely did not want to parade the real reason why I had killed who I did and why, but neither was I particular on kissing someone. Besides Flash, that is.

It was my turn. "Eight ball, left side pocket," I called. I held my breath, and shot. The cue ball struck the eight ball, which bounced off the corner of the side pocket. I had missed, and simultaneously set up the perfect shot for Flash. Damn.

He grinned wickedly. "Eight ball, left corner pocket." He shoots. He scores.

I had lost. Flash had won.

Fuck.

"Flash! You just beat the master at her own game!" Squid cheered, clapping his hand on Flash's back. He just smiled.

"Wasn't too hard," he said.

"Fuck you," I muttered.

"Pity you won," X said. "I was lookin' forward to gettin' a lil something-something, if you know what I mean." He raised his eyebrows suggestively at me. I scoffed.

"Get real, X. Even if I had won, I wouldn't have chosen you. You're not my type."

"You kill me, Red," X replied, placing his hand dramatically over his heart. "I think I may die of heartbreak now." I laughed. Just then, the dinner bell rang.

"Come on, you can tell us the story over dinner," Flash offered, setting our sticks against the wall. I sighed.

"Yeah. Sure."

"This is great," Squid said, rubbing his hands together. "Finally, the mystery of Red's real reason for winding up in Camp Green Lake is revealed. I am way too excited."

"I'll bet you are," I muttered.

I wasn't about to spill my secret to people I had only met two weeks ago, but I didn't want to lie to them either. They deserved more than that. I sighed.

This could get interesting.


	4. the lies

**Notes**: Thanks to all my reviewers! You all rock!!! Sorry this took so long. And sorry this is ridiculously short! I kind of ran out of ideas, and I didn't want to get into the next chapter just yet, so I'm just ending it here.

And I sort of took both**Blondie 24-7**'s idea of stealing the old lady's purse and my idea of the bike and ran with it. Let's hope you all like it. :)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Holes, or anything associated with it. That honor belongs to Louis Sachar. The title of the story is taken from the song "Down to the Valley" by Doc Watson.

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**Chapter 4: the lies.**

"I'm in the middle of nothing, and it's where I want to be.  
I'm at the bottom of everything, and I finally start to leave.  
This is the story of my life,  
these are the lies I have created."

-30 Seconds to Mars. "The Story"

The mess hall seemed more crowded than usual. Maybe that's just because I felt like I was suffocating. I wasn't ready to parade my murder charge around camp. After all, I didn't know any of the other D-Tent's stories either, save for the little bit Squid told me about Zigzag when I first got here (something about a gun, if I recall correctly). And I wasn't spilling anything until they spilt theirs.

Maybe I could lie. Lying seemed to be the best option as of now. But what could I say? They already knew I was framed for the murder I was convicted of, and that I had killed the one who framed me- my boyfriend. Well, ex boyfriend, I suppose. But they didn't know the little details. I hope it stays that way.

Dinner was the same slop as always: some form of chili, soggy green beans and broccoli, and the two pieces of bread. I tried to sneak off to another table, hoping that maybe D-Tent had forgotten about the little wager between Flash and I. No such luck, of course. Zigzag caught me by the arm, hauling me back to D-Tent's table.

"Nice try, Red," he laughed, sitting me down in the space beside him. "You ain't getting away that easily." I grumbled, picking up my fork and angrily jabbing my beans.

"Alright now," X-Ray said triumphantly, clapping his hands together. "Let's hear it."

"I'm not saying anything until I get some sort of trade off." I waved my fork at them. "My story for your guy's stories."

"Fine," Flash said nonchalantly. "I haven't got some embarrassing story about getting caught trespassing or some silly shit like that."

"Now wait just a sec," X said, holding his hands out. "That ain't fair."

"Fair or not, I'm not saying a word until I get something in return." I began spooning the chili onto my bread, creating a makeshift sandwich. X-Ray sighed.

"Fine. Whatever. Who wants to go first?"

"I will," Flash offered. He smiled. "As you all know, I have quite a fascination for fire. Anyway, I accidentally set fire to a police station in Yarmouth. I nearly toasted everything - and everyone - inside."

I frowned, smirking. "How'd you manage that?"

"Fireworks. It was the fourth of July, and I guess my friends and I got a bit, er, overexcited." He grinned. "A bottle rocket shot straight through the window and exploded inside an open file cabinet. Whole place went up in flames. Next thing I knew, I was being hauled off to court and charged for willful assault on police territory, and here I am." He flourished his hands and smiled.

"Nice," muttered X, grinning. "Okay, my turn. Nothing exciting, really." He shrugged. "My older brother, Jerrod, dealt drugs in Chicago, where we lived a few years ago. Anyway, he got caught and hauled off to jail, and we moved to Lubbock, Texas. Got in with a bad crowd, I guess, and started doing what my brother did. But it wasn't real, just parsley 'n stuff. But," he sighed heavily, "I got caught anyway. Too young for jail, so I got sent here. The end."

"Lovely," I laughed. "Okay, who's next?"

"How 'bout you?" X asked, looking at me. I shook my head.

"Not 'til all y'all are done. Who's next?"

"I'ma kleptomaniac. Well, sorta," Magnet said, resting his elbows on the table. "Stole a bunch o' stuff from Wal-Mart down in Miami. It was the perfect escape, _simplemente hermoso_. But, I had a puppy in my pocket, _un perrito pequeño_. Little bitty thing had been locked in a cage. I couldn't just leave it there, right? So, I took it with me." Magnet grinned lazily. "Thing started barking like a _persona loca_ the second I got out the door. Tried to run, but got caught, and I wasn't about to go to jail. So, here I am."

I chuckled. "Never took you for a sentimentalist, José. Rescuing dogs? Didn't think you had it in you."

"Shut up, _Roja_," he laughed, pushing me playfully. I smiled.

"Armpit, you go," X said. Armpit sighed.

"I beat up some stupid punk kid. Kept messin' with me, so I broke his nose and next thing I knew, his parents were filin' a lawsuit against me. And, uh, that's about it."

"Fascinating," Zigzag said. Armpit scoffed.

"Well, what about you, Zig? What'd you do?"

"Stole a gun, right outta cop car," Zigzag said. I frowned.

"What did you need a gun for?" I asked quietly. Zig shrugged.

"I dunno. I just felt like stealin' something."

I nodded, but I didn't believe him. _Oh well. He'll tell me when he's ready._ "Well, that leaves you, Squid." I grinned at him. "What's your decline into delinquency?"

Squid _tch_-ed, scowling. "I ain't gotta tell you nothin', Red. These guys already know what I'd done."

"Fail English, among others?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. The boys laughed. "I swear, my pet gerbil speaks better than you do." Squid's scowl deepened.

"Shut up, man."

I chuckled. "Fine then." I turned to X. "What did Squid do?"

"I dunno if I should say. It's, uh, kinda embarrassing." Grins broke out on everyone's faces, save for Squid of course. He growled.

"Don't you _dare_, X." Squid was looking death at X-Ray. X just smirked.

"So, what he did--"

"X, shut _UP_!!!"

"--he tried to steal this 80-year-old lady's purse--"

"X-RAY! SHUT UP!"

"--but she caught him--"

Squid slammed his head into the table. "AHH!"

D-Tent was in tears by now. X could barely talk. "--and she started _hitting_ him on the head with it!"

I started cracking up, covering my mouth with my hand.

"But wait, it gets better," Flash said, smiling widely. "He stole some five year old's bicycle as a getaway. And _she_ was the one who caught him. She tackled him to the ground long enough for the cops to get there."

"No way." I stared. I could just imagine Squid on some little girl's pink bicycle with the tassels on the handlebars and the wicker basket in the front being chased down the street by some old lady in ripped stockings and a big brimmed hat and a five year old girl. I started laughing harder.

"I hate you," Squid growled. His face was beet red. The table laughed.

"We know," everyone chorused.

Squid looked murder at me. "Alright then, Red. What's your big story?"

_Great._

"Yeah, it's only fair now," Flash said, leaning his elbows on the table. Everyone was looking at me.

_Just great_.

I tried to act casual, but my hands were shaking. I coughed. "Well, it's nothing really," I muttered, shrugging. "My boyfriend, Jimmy, was a drug dealer, and this, uh, this guy didn't have his money one night, so he attacked Jimmy. Jimmy fought back and killed the guy. Next thing I knew, the police were knocking on my door, saying they had to talk to me. I ran, tracked down Jimmy and, uh, killed him. Got caught the next day. And, umm, that's about it, really."

Well, it was sort of true. I tried not to lie (I hated lying), but left out a few details in the process. They didn't need to know that I had been there when the whole thing happened; that I had watched in horror as Jimmy plunged the knife into Andy Levokowitz's stomach; that Jimmy had come up to me, covered in blood, as I stood screaming in the corner of the alley, and told me to leave, to run, and to not tell a single fuckin' soul what had just happened, 'cuz no one needed to know; that I had raced home, crying so hard I threw up; that I had scrubbed my hands 'til they were raw, trying to wash away the still-warm blood of Andy Levokowitz that Jimmy had left when he grabbed me in that dark alley just ten minutes earlier; that all I felt as I hunted Jimmy down was _revenge_.

Suddenly, I couldn't think. I stood from the table, nearly knocking the whole bench over.

"Red, what's gotten into you?" X asked, staring up at me. I just shook my head.

"Nothing. Uh, cramps. I'm gonna go lay down or...something." I left my tray on the table and practically ran from the mess hall. I knew I was crying; I didn't need to feel the hot, wet tears on the back of my hand as I wiped them away, or the burning pain in the back of my throat that didn't let me breathe properly until I reached the tent. I stood there, breathing heavily, tears streaming down my face. Suddenly, I let out a scream and pounded my pillow, trying to put all my energy into destroying it, rather than myself.

I was so mad at Jimmy-- mad at him for being stupid enough to fucking _kill_ someone, mad at him for framing me and sending me to this fucking hell-hole, mad at him for ruining my whole life.

I continued my assault, screaming all the while. White-hot rage clouded my vision as my sobs reached a crescendo. Suddenly, I felt someone's arms around me, pulling me back, setting me down on my bed. I struggled, not thinking clearly, only that I had to get away.

"Charlie. Calm down, you're going to make yourself sick."

Zigzag.

I hiccupped, panting heavily, letting him set me down in his lap on my bed. I was shaking. I wrung my hands together almost compulsively, until he stilled them by placing his own hands on top of mine.

"Charlie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I--" I paused, biting my lip. "I just freaked out. I don't know. Just thinking about that night drives me insane. I hate him so much." I sighed and shook my head, more tears brimming at my eyes. "I'm so glad he's dead. I hate him."

Zigzag didn't ask me who I was talking about, but I think he already knew. He simply wrapped his arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder, rocking me gently.

I sniffed. "You're not gonna t-tell anyone about this, right?"

I could feel him smile and he held me tighter. "I promise."


End file.
